


Lost

by harmonyfb



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Horror, Karma - Freeform, Perception and the Lack of It, cemetary, comeuppance, post-Sunnydale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonyfb/pseuds/harmonyfb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Past actions always come back to haunt us.<br/>Alternate universe, post-<i>Chosen</i><br/>Written for a Halloween ficathon, 2003</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

She’d always thought that thing about the smell of autumn was just, you know, a metaphor-kinda-thing. But having moved – temporarily – to a slightly more northeastern city, she’d discovered that there really was a smell that went along with the falling leaves. Smelled like mold, like decay. A little like the basement after that pipe incident. Smelled like death. Went along with the increased dark, she guessed, because that brought actual death. Vampires swarmed out of the woodwork, especially after daylight savings started.

Buffy was willing to bet that wasn’t a consideration when they decided to make it a law. Or a custom. Or whatever it was. She had to patrol – scratch that, _they_ had to patrol – every night, the Slayers fanning out in tag teams to fight that evil. "Buddy up for safety,” Willow’d said, and Buffy had smiled at the joke, but she made sure that she went out alone. So much baggage attached to her slaying partners that it was pretty much a matched set with garment bag. Anyway, she didn’t know these girls, couldn’t keep their names straight even with the list Dawn taped to her mirror. She knew she could trust herself.

Patrol had been busy – full orange moon hanging low on the horizon meant everyone was just a little more crazy than usual – but nothing she couldn’t handle. It was like they were at low tide, the evil just lapping around their ankles, but not really dangerous. It was…nice. Kind of a novelty. Giles thought it might be because of the hellmouth slamming shut, or because of the surge of Slayer-ness that had been released. Really didn’t matter much. She could use the vacation.

Towards midnight, she found herself in a lull; pulled herself up to sit crossed-leg on a sarcophagus, catch her breath. The moonlight flickered where half-empty branches were blown aside, and now and then she’d snap to awareness, only to realize the movement she saw was simply a leaf, spiraling to the ground. She pulled up the leg of her jeans to rub gingerly at a sore spot. She didn’t know this cemetery yet, and odds were that she wouldn’t have time to get to know it. Whacking her shins on headstones was again an occupational hazard. She never thought she’d say this, but she missed the Sunnydale graveyards. She knew where every stone and tree and hidey-hole was, and she and Spike – She froze, nursing that familiar sliver of pain. Yeah. She missed home.

Suddenly tired, she jumped up and dusted off her rear. Maybe it was time to pack it in for the night.

She didn’t even register the first staking on the way home. Just some random vampire, hanging out. _Plunge and move on_ , Giles used to say. She didn’t much bother with banter anymore. The dust swirled around her feet, but she was gone before it settled, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

What was weird was the second vamp. He was leaning against yet another mausoleum, just hanging out like he was waiting patiently. This time, the moonlight hit him square in the face, pale and no-older-than-her when he’d been turned. Sighing, she turned from the path and trudged towards him. “I just want to go home and have a nice, hot bath. Is that too much to ask? You couldn't hang out in some other cemetery where there wasn’t anything going on?”

His only answer was a smile, sardonic and a bit sad. His hands remained in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward as though he actually felt the cold.

She stopped a few feet in front of the tomb; he hadn’t moved. “Well, come on – I really don’t have all night for this. I do have somewhere to be.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “This is the only place I have to be.” He glanced up at the moon, rising slowly above the trees. “You forget how pretty it is, sometimes, when it’s all you get to see, you know?”

She sighed loudly, shifting one hand to her hip. “Oh, god, are we going to have another counseling session? Look, I can find my own shrink. Let’s just get on with the fighty-fight so I can get back, ok?”

There was the smile again. “You don’t know who I am, do you? Or even where you are?”

“Am I supposed to recognize you? Look, I don’t live here, I’m just visiting. I probably just remind you of somebody. Where I am? Duh – Edgehill Cemetery, corner of Peach and Island Way,” she said, amused. “Now it’s my turn. Do you know who I am?” She raised the stake, just barely, so she a clear shot to his heart.

“Do you?” he asked.

That’s when she threw it. Cold, stiff fingers notwithstanding, it flew straight. He couldn’t get his hands out of his pockets fast enough to bat it away. She didn’t wait to watch the dust settle.

***

She must have gotten turned around. Sometimes these old cemeteries had little dead-end paths that led off to the edge of the property. Not a big, hairy deal, just annoying, because she was cold and a little tired, and definitely done for the night. Her breath blew in great clouds as she traced her way back to the center roundabout, and jogged for the gate.

When she saw him again, she almost flinched. Well, not again, because it obviously wasn’t him, but geez – spiked-up reddish hair, ancient duds – it sure looked enough like the vampire she just… Well, it just wasn’t, that was all. “Hey!” she called across the lawn. “Is there some kind of convention, or are you just one geek among many?” When he moved forward out of the shadows, she actually shivered, gooseflesh creeping over her.

Didn’t take long to recover, for her mind to recognize the stress-induced fear. “Have you got a brother? Cause I took out a vamp a minute ago, looked just like you.” She swept her eyes over him, 80’s jacket and pipe-leg jeans, his hands jammed tight in the pockets. “Dressed like you, too. Weird.”

“He did?” he smiled.

The same smile. The same voice. Oh, shit.

“So, you’ve got some kind of trick, like Dracula, right? He could do that – pretend to dust and then come back. I’ve got to say, you don’t look that impressive. So I’m guessing some kind of smoke and mirrors, right?”

“No. No tricks. You got me. You always get me. Hurts, too, you know? You try getting a sharpened baseball bat shoved through your chest every night.” His hand, tipped with glittering polish, came out to rub over his heart. “Gets kind of boring, too. Guess that’s the point, huh?”

Confused, she moved closer. He did look a bit familiar, maybe. But then again, it was the full moon, and the crazies were out in force. Drusilla was proof that insanity didn’t discriminate against the undead. “Oookay. Look, you win. I’m tired and I’m cold and I’m going home. So – yay for you, you get away. Tonight, anyway. I just don’t have the energy to deal with this level of nutjob. So, bye.”

“You might as well stay – you can’t get out that way.”

“Watch me,” she called over her shoulder. He didn’t follow.

Ten minutes later, she was just as lost as before. Crap. She was sure this was the right pathway. Now she’d have to backtrack again. Hopefully the 80’s poster boy had grabbed a clue and headed home. She wasn’t in the mood for an “I told you so” from some crazy-ass vampire.

The gravel crunched loudly under her sneakers, trekking back towards the center. Yep, there was the office, its pale yellow porchlight washed out by the moon. And of course, the jacket guy. She held up her hand, palm out. “Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

He chuckled. “I did tell you so.”

Buffy gritted her teeth, and walked to the other side of the drive, counting the wide gravel pathways that led into the dark. Three more left. Well, one of them had to be the right one. She knew it wasn’t the one that led around behind the office, so it must be the first one on the left. For sure. She started walking.

From behind her, she heard a low voice. “Don’t go far – they’ll be here, soon.”

That did stop her. “They, who?” When she didn’t get an answer, she made her way back to the mausoleum, stood within striking distance, arms folded. “They, who? Look, you might as well tell me, so I don’t have to beat it out of you.” She thought for a minute. “On second thought, a fight might actually warm me up. So tell me, don’t tell me, just make a decision."

"You know, all of them. Same as always." His voice grew dreamy, staring past her into the night. "I was married, you know. We’d been together since before we were turned, actually." His gaze sharpened. "We were supposed to be looking for a place to live, but the graveyard was just so beautiful there. We were playing around, chasing and finding, and then I heard her scream." He reached to cover his eyes, as if to shut out the memory, and his voice trembled. "I didn't get there in time. I saw – I saw you kill her. She just exploded."

"Oh. Well, sorry. Well, not, really, but you know..."

He continued on, as though she hadn’t spoken. "I didn't want to live without her. Guess I thought it was lucky that you were still there, so you could kill me, too."

"So why didn’t I?"

He lowered his hand from his face, haunted eyes locked on hers. "You did."

"Yeah. Because there are all these vampire ghosts hanging around...and you're just a complete loon, aren't you? Ever thought of trying lithium?"

From behind her she heard the merest scrape of gravel, then multiplied over and over and over again. She whipped 'round, stake at the ready, and her heart sank.

"Wasn't all that lucky, really. We're not together, not exactly. Could be worse, though - at least I get to see her every night."

There must have been a thousand of them. A hundred thousand, maybe. Vampires standing in thick ranks as far back as her eyes could see. Waiting for her. _Dammit_! And she’d fallen for the distraction, stood talking to this moron when she could have been halfway back to the apartment by now. There were just too many, and she was all alone; there wasn't any way to win. But damned if she’d go by herself.

She whirled on her heel, and plunged the stake deep in jacket guy’s chest. "It doesn't help," he said.

Her fingers had barely closed around the stake when he was suddenly there, standing above her as though nothing had happened.

She flung herself away from him, pushing away the fear, ready to strike and plunge – and the crowd parted before her. Not from fear of her, oh no.

To let _Angel_ come to meet her.

For a moment, her eyes brightened; they might have a chance, after all. And then she really looked at his face, really looked in his yellowed eyes. "What? Oh, god, Angel, what happened?"

Her reappearing vamp came up behind her, his hand tightly clasping that of a Madonna-wannabe, both smiling sharp-toothed grins. "You know, there's really no such thing as time here. That's why it happens over and over and over. There’s only right now. I can't believe you haven't figured that out yet."

"You never were very smart, were you?" said Angelus. He leaned close to her ear, close enough to hear her heart hammering under her skin.

"Welcome to hell, Buffy," he whispered.

_Hell_? The snort was unavoidable. "Ditch the drama, Angel. You want a fight, you got one. But _hell_?" She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's do it."

His smile was like ice as he pointed over her shoulder to where the gates were clearly visible. Just beyond them, she lay on the ground, her throat torn, blood pooling beneath her, one hand still clasped around her phone.

She could hear Xander's panicked voice on the other end of the phone, see her own eyes slowly dimming.

"See, lover, I always knew I'd see you again."

"But-" It wasn't true. She wouldn't - couldn't - "No-I was in heaven, I remember heaven, I wouldn't..."

Behind her, there was laughter. "Sure you would. Where else do you think demons go?"

"But I'm not-" But she _was_. Her hands began to shake.

"Where do you think murderers go?

That she was not. "I'm not a murderer."

Angelus' voice again in her ear. "Aren't you? Look around, Buffy. We were all murdered by you." The ranks of vampires swelled behind him, pressing closer, and closer, line upon line.

"I-I'm the Slayer. It's my job. And you were evil."

"You were just following orders? What can I say? The universe just isn't fair. But look at it this way, Buffy - we'll always be together."

And then, they were on her.


End file.
